damn. Unsure if her fealty was to Comyn or the Bruce, a wrong answer could hold a fatal consequence. “Sir Thomas MacKelloch.”
“Release your sword and state your loyalty!”
A hand flashed to his far right, alerting him that his knights had surrounded her and were closing in. “Lass, I am but passing through.”
Another arrow whipped past, sliced the first straight down the center.
He stared at the severed shaft in disbelief. An expert archer, he was proud of his ability and could match her skill, a level of proficiency held by few. Who was this lass? More important, why was she so close to King Robert’s encampment? God’s teeth, if her intention was to kill the Bruce, with her accuracy she would need but one attempt.
With quiet steps, his knights crept behind her.
“I would be asking for your loyalty as well,” Thomas said.
With a panther’s grace, the slender archer drew back her bowstring.
His knights lunged.
The woman screamed as Rónán caught her hands and jerked them behind her back. “Release me,” she demanded, her legs kicking out with dangerous accuracy.
Rónán held tight.
Aiden retrieved her bow while Cailin made a quick search.
Cailin removed several weapons hidden within her garb, then held up the dagger she’d hidden in her boot. “A sgian dubh.” He scowled. “The lass is well armed.”
Furious at placing himself and potentially his men in danger, Thomas stormed over.
Blond hair tugged free from her braid and whipped against her comely face.
“Who are you?” Thomas demanded.
Bewitching moss-green eyes narrowed.
Though impressed by her daring, he wouldna have his question go unanswered. “Your name.”
The woman twisted to free her arm; Rónán held firm.
“Alesone MacNiven.”
“Why did you threaten me?”
“I only sought your name and loyalty, ’twas far from a threat.”
Thomas grunted. “You have an intriguing way of asking. Whom are you loyal to?”
Fear edged her eyes.
A dose of nerves would serve him well. “Tell me, by God, or I will haul you before King Robert and expose your plans to assassinate him.”
At his words, her face paled. “Never would I harm Scotland’s king.”
“You are loyal to the Bruce?”
She nodded. “I am his personal healer and under his protection.”
An untruth. He’d received a detailed account on those of importance who traveled with the king. Never was a woman mentioned, certainly not one who was a healer. “Indeed?” Thomas said, his voice ripe with suspicion. “With Scotland at war, I find it odd for the Bruce to allow a lass under his protection to leave camp without a proper guard.”
“He doesna know I left,” she said, her tone unapologetic. “I needed a few herbs. I was returning when I heard you tramping up the knoll.”
Tramping? Bedamned the woman’s daring! “’Twould seem a fortuitous day,” he drawled. “My men and I are en route to meet with the king. ’Twill be interesting to hear our sovereign’s response to your claim.” Thomas glanced at his friend. “Cailin, how many weapons does she carry?”
“Counting the bow and arrows, eight.”
Thomas arched a brow. “Well-armed for a healer gathering herbs.”
“’Tis dangerous away from the encampment,” she stated, temper sliding into her voice.
“Aye, but nae for a mercenary intent on killing the king.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I told you my reason for being in the forest.”
“You did, a claim I find of great interest.” Thomas caught her wrist, stunned by the shock of desire he felt at the touch. He nodded to Rónán. “I will escort Mistress Alesone, if indeed ’tis her name, to the encampment.”
His friend released her and stepped back.
Alesone struggled against Thomas’s hold. “I dinna need an escort!”
“What you need is yet to be determined,” Thomas warned, nae pleased by the delay, nor by being saddled with this mule-headed woman whom he couldna trust. “If you continue to fight me, you will be tied and carried to camp. How you meet the king is your choice.”
Outrage flashed in her eyes. “How dare you treat me with such disrespect, you ill-bred lout! I am nae a criminal.”
“A decision I will allow King Robert to make.” Though beautiful, this woman promised to be naught but trouble. With a muttered curse, Thomas tugged her with him and headed toward the king’s encampment.
Chapter Two
With a muttered curse, Thomas pulled the reckless woman past the camp’s outlying tents, her blistering scowl trying his patience.
“Release me!” she hissed.
Thomas shot the lass a warning glare. “Mistress Alesone.” He kept his voice level as he strode toward the king’s tent. “One doesna shoot arrows at a warrior and then make demands.”
Alesone tugged hard to break free from his hold.
Enough. He halted, jerked a thin hemp rope from his pack, and secured her wrists.
She gasped. “W-what are you doing?”
“I believe,” he said, his voice dry, “’tis obvious.”
Lavender eyes narrowed. “I told you I wouldna try to escape.”
“A promise broken by your action moments ago.”
“This is ridiculous! One woman surrounded by several knights. I hardly think I present any threat.”
He scoffed. “Your skill with the bow, along with the wide array of arms you had concealed upon your person, tends to undermine that argument.”
“Your men seized all of my weapons,” she said. “And I do not appreciate being brought before the king restrained like a common criminal.”
“Continue to argue and you will find yourself tossed over my shoulder with a gag in your mouth.”
“An action you would sorely regret.”
Thomas resumed walking. “The only thing I regret is that
